After the War Chronicles: Traitors
by Mike Canary
Summary: The five traitors of Grado begin repairing thier homeland.They soon find it will be more difficult then they thought, and old choices can have big ramifications.First part takes place one year after game, then jumps ahead 23 years.Many characters from gam
1. Chapter 1 Council

**_This is actually something of a sequel to my other fire emblem story about Colm and Neimi. This one starts a year after the war, but will soon jump ahead 23 years, to after my other one ended. Even if you don't read that one, you should be able to get this one._**

"It's one thing to talk about rebuilding Grado," Duessel said to his young companion as their horses trotted down the road, "But another thing entirely too actually attempt it." His companion, a young blond haired girl named Amelia, looked at him worriedly. She was clad from head to toe in the scarlet armor of a Grado Paladin and had a long thin spear strapped across her back and a sword at her hip.

"But, we have to do something." She protested nervously. She still got nervous talking with the great General Duessel, a distinguished veteran of many battles and the one who had reunited her and her mother after their separation years ago. During the War of the Stones, they had fought side by side, with Duessel serving as a mentor for her.

"The people are tired of inaction." She continued, "They want to stop all this talk of recovering and begin advancing. You know, restore Grado to its former glory and all that."

Duessel shook his head. "The problem with that is that reconstruction takes time. The war and the earthquake that followed have severely damaged Grado's infrastructure, and if we try to run before we crawl, we'll only fall."

Amelia nodded in agreement and set her eyes back on the dirt road, carefully guiding her horse over any pitfalls or obstacles. She had agreed to follow General Duessel to this meeting only because he had practically begged her to. If anyone else had asked, she probably would have told them no flat out. Afterall, she was supposed to be in the service of Renais now, and being called to a meeting of the leaders of Grado seemed like an easy way to have split loyalties.

Still, General Duessel had asked her, and she not only wanted to help the old general, but felt she owed him for his help in finding her mother and in training her. They'd been traveling for several days, and so far, no problems had arisen. The usual bandits and raiders had been just as damaged by the disasters that had struck Grado, and even if they hadn't, the two soldiers would have been more than enough to handle any ill-trained bandits.

"So, who will be there do you think?" Amelia asked to break the silence. "Anyone from the war?"

Duessel nodded and smiled. "Yes, I sent messages to Cormag and Natasha. As for Knoll…well, I have no idea where the man is, but he may have heard about it and decided to come anyways. It's in his nature. Beyond that, most of the remaining villages and cities have agreed to send representatives, so perhaps we can get an idea of what exactly each area needs." Privately, Amelia thought that bringing together so many differing opinions may make making decisions difficult, but she kept these thoughts to herself.

"And what about you?" Duessel said looking at Amelia. "I hear your commission in Renais has gone well so far, though I was disappointed to hear you didn't wish to return to Grado." Amelia bowed her head, flushing slightly.

"There were extenuating circumstances." She said, thinking of Franz. "Besides, it's easy for you to return to Grado. Despite your defecting, the people could never doubt your loyalty. Nor could they doubt Cormag's because of his connection to General Glen. And nobody would ever accuse Natasha and Knoll of being traitors, being a part of the royal court as they are. Me though," she said shrugging, "The only thing people know about me is that I joined Grado's army as a recruit and defected in my first battle. Not exactly the same."

Duessel looked at his companion pitifully, feeling shame at not having remembered that Amelia's station didn't grant her as much leniency as his did.

"Don't worry." He said reassuringly. "The people now understand how the Emperor and his son had gone mad. It's those who profited from that madness, like that coward Valter, who were the traitors."

"Besides," he continued drawing an axe from his belt, "Just tell me if anyone speaks badly of your loyalty. I may be old, but this old war horse still has some teeth." He grinned to let Amelia know he was joking. And they laughed lightly, any worry over the upcoming meeting gone.

* * *

Cormag let his wyvern drop through the air, its massive wings beating the air as he fell to the ground. His mount roared loudly, sending flights of birds soaring for the sky.

"Easy boy." He said patting the panting wyvern's neck. It had been a long trip and the powerful beast was hungry and had the urge to hunt. Cormag jumped of his back and turned.

"All right." He said with a smile as the wyvern anxiously looked at the flocks of birds. "Go ahead, but be back soon." The wyvern nodded in understanding and shot into the air with a powerful thrust from its legs.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" a voice yelled from behind him. Cormag turned and saw Tana falling gently to the ground on the back of her pegasus. "What if we have to leave and he's not back?"

"He will be." Cormag assured. "He'll hunt for a while and return quickly. After all, this meeting will take at least a couple hours."

"More like a couple days." Tana said observing the ruins of Grado's once proud capital city. Most of it had survived the war, but the earthquake a year later had decimated whatever was left, leaving many homeless and living in the ruins. "I can't even imagine where to begin. So much of Grado is destroyed…"

"Still," Cormag said confidently, "It doesn't matter how we begin or where. All that matters is that we begin."

"Ohh," Tana teased, "Look whose suddenly become so wise." Cormag grinned at her and led her down the streets of Grado Keep.

"Comes with the territory I suppose."

* * *

Duessel rubbed his temples, trying to block out the clutter of noise emanating around him. The various representatives of the various villages and cities, some of the smartest men in the Empire, were all around him. And getting nowhere. Somehow, a debate had broken out over who should lead the proceedings, either Duessel, who had not even submitted his name, or Rotrai, the decided leader of many of the western cities, who had survived much of the damage of the earthquake. For the past two hours, nobody had been able to break the stalemate. Rotrai, a lord and distant relative of the former Emperor, seemed to have gained quite a following and was pushing for the improvement of the western areas, stating that the war had damaged their lands substantially and that they would use the improvements and the ensuing economic prosperity to help the eastern villages recover. Of course, the eastern villages opposed him, saying that their homes had been almost completely wiped out by the earthquake and that they were in danger of destruction if they didn't receive aid.

Personally, Duessel agreed with the eastern villages. Not only were they the most vulnerable, but just strengthening the western villages would lead to an imbalance and could leave the eastern cities and villages vulnerable. Plus, Grado Keep, their capital, was a part of the eastern districts. Being one of the most populace cities and the seat of power, its stability was essential to the Empire's survival. And, to be honest, Duessel didn't trust this Rotrai. He was a veteran of the War of the Stones who had returned from the front to find his home destroyed during the fighting between Imperial and Ephraim's forces.

"We must stand together!" Rotrai proclaimed in elegant speech, "And for that to happen, there must be trust. So, trust us to assist you once our homes are rebuilt and are business prospers. That way, the Empire will be able to thrive and keep its prestige around the world while it recovers."

"Your words make sense Rotrai." One elderly eastern village man said quietly. "But I fear your words have other motives.

"You would leave our people to freeze while your economy thrives." Another accused. An uproar of shouts and accusations rose up again, and Duessel sighed, resigning himself to a whole night of listening to their bickering.

"Told you." Amelia's voice whispered behind him. He leaned back in his chair to listen to her.

"As long as they remain this disunited, we don't have a chance of getting anything done. What we need is a leader." Duessel sighed, knowing what she was getting at.

"The problem with that Amelia is that the Emperor's line is broken with the death of Prince Lyon."

"Then maybe it's time to start a new line." She said. Duessel snorted.

"And who will head this line. These squabbling village leaders, barons, and lords." He shook his head. "No Amelia, we can no more appoint an emperor then we can turn back the clock and wish all the war's results away."

"I disagree." Cormag said entering the conversation. "General Duessel, unless someone grabs the reins of the Empire, it is doomed to fall apart. It cannot be any of these people; they only look after themselves. It must be someone who's used to giving orders and has been in situations where the lives of many were at stake. General Duess-"

"If you're even considering me, you can forget it." General Duessel said angrily. "Me taking over the Empire would be nothing short of a military coup, and I will play no part in it." Amelia and Cormag fell silent, surprised by their general's reaction.

"Fine General." Cormag said finally, "But if this body cannot come to a decision in two weeks, we may have to take steps to begin the reconstruction on our own. Not doing so would be a betrayal of all our beliefs and a betrayal to those, like my brother, who died fighting to restore our empire." Sitting back, Cormag turned his attention to the debates, leaving General Duessel to ponder his words.

* * *

Thirteen days later, the council had done little to change the state of affairs in Grado. Their constant bickering had continued until Duessel had finally told them he had no intention of accepting a role as mediator of the meeting. Rotrai now headed the council and General Duessel quickly came to regret the decision.

Rotrai was cunning, intelligent, and had a distinguished record in the Grado army. He was the perfect politician and had soon begun forcing the eastern districts to capitulate to several of the western favored acts with his biased opinion. Soon, the eastern states had their backs to the wall, trying desperately to lobby for the distribution of food to their areas. Of course, Rotrai fought them, saying that their larger population and close proximity to important ports made food an essential to their trade. Unable to take it anymore, Duessel rose, much to the surprise of both Amelia and Cormag.

"Rotrai, you can't possibly expect food to also be sent to your districts." He said in a dangerously quiet voice. "You've already managed to upset the balance of this council, so why don't you simply give the food to the-"

"General Duessel," Rotrai said in a serious yet seemingly kind voice. "You are merely an observer here, and while you may have the right to give council, I don't believe they yet extend to speaking out of turn in this committee." Duessel stared at the young man in disbelief. In all his years of command, he had never had a man speak so obstinately about him. The crowd of lords and barons murmured as he slowly took his seat, just as shocked as he was.

* * *

The meeting continued for another hour before a man from the eastern districts called for a half hour recess. This was quickly agreed upon as the room was sweltering hot and the various leaders poured out of the room and into the castle courtyard.

Outside, Duessel found Amelia and Natasha in deep conversation with Cormag, who was making angry gestures at the building.

"What's wrong?" he asked Cormag, who turned to him, face immediately calming.

"Knoll's here." He answered simply. "He arrived several minutes ago, specifically saying he wanted to talk to you. Of what…He didn't say."

"Really," Duessel said looking up to the balconies surrounding the courtyard. He could see a dark cloaked figure looking down on them, surveying the scene.

"Well," He said walking towards the stairs. "Better not keep an old friend waiting, ehh." Once he reached the top of the stairs and first saw Knoll, he was surprised to see how the man looked. He was emaciated. It looked as though he hadn't eaten in weeks and his gaunt face stretched over his bones as he smiled.

"General." He greeted, bowing his head. "It is good to see you again." Duessel composed himself and stepped forward, grabbing his friend's shoulder in a friendly grip.

"It's good to see you as well Knoll, but I must know; how long has it been since you've eaten?" Knoll smiled weakly, and gracefully sat on a nearby bench overlooking the courtyard.

"I have been traveling Grado, trying to help people anyway I can." He sighed tiredly. "My skills are not the same as Natasha's, but when I can, I help people survive. Particularly in the east." Knoll looked up at Duessel, eyes confused. "I must know; what have you been doing here Duessel? While the east starves, the western districts are trying to gain control of the grain shipments so they can grow stronger. Tell me; what have you been doing?" Duessel bowed his head, unable to look his old friend in the eye.

"I'm afraid…the negotiations have taken longer than we thought." Duessel admitted ashamedly. "We can't seem to get any one side to agree. And Rotrai has gained a large following by now. Some are calling for him to step up as Emperor. After all, he has royal blood in him somewhere."

"But not noble blood Duessel." Knoll said quietly. "If he is appointed Emperor, we will have a man who only looks out for those who look out for him. Right now, that is the last thing we need."

"I know." Duessel said turning away. "I know my popularity is still strong amongst the people and military, but I don't want the new regime to be won by blood. I'd rather serve then lead."

"Duessel," his friend said getting to his feet. "I understand your reluctance, but most of the people in there would vote for you in a second. You heard their reaction when Rotrai disrespected you. They were furious."

"Popularity doesn't entitle me to rule." Duessel shot back. Knoll, face a mask of anger, raised his finger, jabbing it in the old General's face.

""If you don't take charge, Rotrai will. And then, Grado will burn around us. I have foreseen it." He sat back down with a deep sigh, breathing hard. Duessel got on a knee, asking his friend if he was all right and if he needed Natasha, but he waved him away.

"Duessel," he continued, "Ruling is now your duty. General Glen is dead. General Selena is dead. Only you are left to carry out your emperors will."

Duessel was silent, deep in thought. He knew he needed to do something, but did this have to be it. Did he have to take control?

"If you still have doubts," Knoll said reaching into his cloak, "Then read this." He had a small slip of parchment in his hands. It was rough and tattered, but Duessel could see some rough handwriting on it. Picking it up, Duessel read through it, his face becoming more and more horrified as the meaning of the writing became clear.

"Where'd you find this?" He asked incredulously as he gave the parchment back to him.

"Colm." Knoll answered simply. "He needed money. Something about wanting to build a new home. Anyways, I had him tail Rotrai. Turns out, Rotrai has given a large amount of gifts to much of the council. You will notice that many of the names on there coincide to those who follow Rotrai's example." Knoll stood calmly, waiting for the Generals response.

"I-I know what I have to do." He said hoarsely. "I'll have Amelia and Cormag rally some of our forces. If we can capture Rotrai here, we can end this bloodlessly."

"You should know," Knoll said reassuringly, "I've already spoken too many of the leaders. Most of them agree that this is the best course of action."

"They know!" Duessel said his voice incredulous. Knoll nodded.

"Yes, and the eastern districts, plus half of the western districts all agree that you would be the best choice." Knoll steepled his fingers contemplatively.

"If they support me," Duessel said in a confused voice, "Why did they vote against me?"

"Bribes." Knoll answered. "The majority of them were acting out of self interest for themselves. Still, if you offer yourself as the Emperor, or if you force their hand, I'm certain they will support you."

"Why?" He asked. Knoll chuckled a little, and began coughing.

"Because," he said when the hacking stopped, "My bribe was bigger."

**_Thanks for reading. Please review so I can get that feeling of accomplishment. Constructive critiscism, suggestions, and requests are welcome._**


	2. Chapter 2 Coup

**_All right, here's the deal-_**

**_I'm sorry it has taken so long to continue this, but I've got two huge Star Wars projects I'm working on. However, I promise to keep pumping these out every couple months, So, please slap an alert on here and keep an ear to the ground if you enjoy this story. Also, I'm considering doing these types of fics(Describing what happened after the game) for all of these characters, and maybe expanding into their children. I've already done one for Neimi and Colm that ties into this one and will be important in the next chapter. I would read it to help you understand the next chapter, though it shouldn't be to hard (It's only a oneshot). _**

**_So, thats my speal. I hope you enjoy the story!_**

Duessel sat uneasily in his chair, drumming his fingers on the table in front of him. He felt alone, without Amelia or Cormag at his side, and the constant bickering certainly didn't help. Knoll sat at his side though, providing him with some comfort and Natasha sat behind him. Between the two of them, he felt reasonably secure, even when surrounded by the greedy squabbling leaders of Grado. Now, the eastern districts, seemingly on their last leg, were still desperately trying to maintain control over the grain shipments.

Duessel was completely startled when Rotrai stood up before the congregation, beginning an eloquent speech. It was long, tedious, and seemed to cause the many leaders to gape in admiration.

"Ladies and gentlemen," He said, raising his hands above his head as he finished, "I do not believe that this body can continue to function as the ruling government of the Empire, therefore, I call for a vote appointing the next Emperor of Grado." The motion was followed by silence. Dead silence. Then, a furious uproar shattered the air. Both sides rose to their feet, shouting angrily. Oddly enough, both sides were a mixture of both East and Western District leaders. Evidently, neither side wanted to give up the power of this council.

"Why would Rotrai propose this?" Duessel whispered to Knoll. "It would only lead to a loss of power on his part.

"I don't know." Knoll confessed. "Unless he has a secret majority that I don't know about. Either way, we need to act before he is elected. Are Amelia and Cormag on their way?"

"Yes." Duessel answered solemnly. "I still don't like it, but about two hundred of my personal soldiers should arrive any minute. When that happens, we will seize control of the Council, and force them to accept the new government."

"A bloodless coup. How rare…" Knoll mused. He turned back to the crowd, watching as they gradually calmed into a simmering mass, each anxious to scream their opinions about the future of Grado. It was anarchy, and Duessel feared that it was going to be an excellent representation of Grado's future.

"It had better be bloodless." Natasha whispered over his shoulder. "I can guarantee the support of many of the holy priests and clerics of Grado, but not if this turns into a bloody civil war over the crown. Morally, we could not."

"I understand, old friends." Duessel bowed his head slightly, and shifted so the sword hanging off his hip was no longer digging into his side. As the politicians continued their roundtable discussions, Duessel watched as, one by one, the politicians split their votes down the middle. Finally, they came to him.

"This body," He said, raising himself onto his feet, "Does not have the authority to appoint a new Emperor. It is a position that has always been granted on merit and birthright, not the political maneuverings of a few head people. This council has therefore acted illegally." Duessel paused, wiping a sweaty hand through his hair, letting his words sink in.

"If you continue with this farce, I will be force to _take steps_." He let his hand drift down towards his sword, but leaned easy. The last thing he wanted to do was get into a brawl with these various lords and ladies. He had only Natasha and Knoll at his side, while they had each brought many men-at-arms from each of their own lands. Even with his skill, he would be overwhelmed.

"You can hardly threaten this council." Rotrai declared confidently, his own men-at-arms positioning themselves at his shoulders, flanking him. "And as for your taking steps, I hardly think you are in any position to threaten us." Around the room, the lords and leaders nodded, each grumbling and clearly siding with Rotrai. Duessel sighed. Clearly none of these men were remotely interested in giving up their power. Even voting for Rotrai seemed to be nothing more than a power grab. With their substantial power, they could make the Emperor a puppet as opposed to the decisive authority figure it was supposed to be.

At that moment, Natasha tapped Duessel on his shoulder, pointing at the door to the Great Hall. It had just creaked open slightly, unnoticed in the loud arguments and important declarations. Duessel saw Amelia slip inside, her red armor abandoned in favor of a small simple tunic. She sidled over to Duessel, and quickly stood at his side.

"They're here." She whispered, leaning over briefly. "General, what are your orders?"

Duessel thought for a moment, then nodded. "It's time to act. Begin securing the castle. Have fifty men ring the exit and arrest anyone who attempts to flee. I will make the announcement."

"As you will general." Amelia said, her face pale. She rushed from the room, drawing eyes as she drew her sword from her belt with a small hiss. Duessel turned his attention back to the Council, and was distressed to see a look of recognition flash across Rotrai's face. He stood to speak, but Duessel began before he could.

"Regardless of your intentions, none of you possess the blood of the royal family to be named Emperor."

"Nor the blessings of the Temple." Natasha added loudly, standing at his side. "Without such holy conformation, this body does not have the authority to declare a new Emperor."

"That is a lie!" Rotrai yelled, jumping to his feet. His bodyguards stepped forward as well, revealing a pair of curved swords that had the distinct shape of a myrmidon's. "I am related through the royal family-"

"Through marriage, not through blood!" Duessel thundered, slamming his fist down on the great table. "And I fear you have alternative motives for your own Emperorship, motives and ambitions I will not allow to pass after the past couple years disasters."

"I know better than anyone the foolhardiness of the War of the Stones!" Rotrai roared back, raising his sleeve to show a scar left by a Renais knight. "Do not presume to lecture me on sacrifices the war brought on our country."

"Oh, I do presume. In fact, I believe you could do with a good bit of lecturing, particularly in the area of integrity and honor."

"Lord Rotrai." Knoll said, his usual quiet and reserved voice amplified by the sheer authority it carried. "You are charged with the bribing of Councilmen and attempting to install an unsuitable monarch onto our throne."

"Bribing Councilmen!?" Rotrai laughed, letting his hands fall peacefully inside his cloak. "I have done no such thing."

"We have it on good advice from a Colm of Renais that Lord Rotrai has bribed many today to support him for Emperorship."

Rotrai snorted loudly, no longer raging against his shackles. "A peasant thief and a foreigner. These are ridiculous accusations from a pathetic source."

"Colm is a hero of the War of the Stones who fought alongside Grado. He is a far more legitimate source then you!" Knoll paused, raising one hand to point at Rotrai. "Traitor!"

Duessel stepped back, drawing his sword as Rotrai roared, drawing his own sword from his belt. His bodyguards followed, leaping gracefully onto the table.

All around them, Lords drew their weapons, their bodyguards and men-at-arms joining them. Soon, the whole hallway was lost in a fierce melee as those who sided with Duessel and those bribed by Rotrai fought each other. Seeing Rotrai's reaction, many of the neutral leaders sided with Duessel, while those fighting him fought with wild desperation. Both sides roared, battling each other in a long brawl like setting.

Duessel leapt into the fight, wielding his sword in one hands, trying to wound rather than kill. A pair of arms men lunged at him, their spears thrusting. Duessel caught the spear of one with his free hand, deflecting it away and cleaving off the hand that held it in one swift move. His companion spun, trying to smash his head with the butt of his spear, but Duessel ducked and smashed the man's kneecap with the flat of his blade. He rose, leaving them both wounded, but alive.

There was a flash of magic to his right, and fire nearly engulfed him. At the last second, tendrils of darkness seemed to rise in front of him, forming a solid shield against the attack. A second later, the mage who cast the fire was smothered by a wave of shadow cast by Knoll, his face set in a grim stare of concentration. Knoll made a wave with his hand and whistled.

There was a loud roaring, and Duessel saw the doors to the Great hall flung open, and Cormag leading the red clad soldiers of the Empire into the room, ringing it with archers and lance wielding troops. With a nod from Cormag, a squad of them charged into the fray, surrounding Duessel with a wall of shields, deflecting arrows and javelins.

Suddenly, Duessel felt his neck hairs rise, and looked up. There, the two myrmidons that had been protecting Rotrai had leaped over the heads of the soldiers, using the table as a springboard. They came straight down on him, one sword flashing towards his neck, the other his waist. Dropping, he grabbed the wrist of the hand holding the sword aimed at his waist, twisting it with a sharp jerk. He felt bone brake and the sword drop.

Kicking the wounded myrmidon to the side, he turned to the other, sword flying towards his back. The skilled swordsman turned however, and stabbed with his own weapon at Duessel's neck, but the old General's weapon was there to block it. They slid off each other, sparks flying as the combatants spun. They turned again, and now the myrmidon was joined by his wounded companion, who held his sword in his uninjured hand.

They prepared to attack, but before they could, were set upon by the squad of red clad soldiers, forced back by their spears. The wounded one received another injury, to both his shoulder and thigh, while the other was skewered through by a pair of spears, even as his sword scarred the face of one of the men. Duessel rushed to the fallen man, helping lift his face up, but then noticed an enormous calm seemed to have settled over the Great Hall.

There was quiet as the soldiers began rounding up the lords and their bodyguards, dragging them sullenly out of the room. Rotrai was under particularly close guard, his word held by Cormag personally, and a pair of guards holding swords at his throat. He looked furious, his face a mask of rage as Amelia applied a pair of shackles to his wrists. Natasha rushed besides Duessel, and began healing the wounded soldier, waving him away.

"You traitor!" He yelled, wincing as Amelia tightened the metal restraints around his wrists. "Do you really expect that the people will stand for this? That my people will stand for this!?"

"I assure you they will." Knoll said, suddenly appearing at Duessel's side. "You have committed numerous crimes against the state, and impeded the government and its efforts to recover. You will be put on trial, convicted, and executed, of that I am sure."

"But," Rotrai, looked around, anger sharpening his features, making him look angular and fierce. "I'm innocent! I've done nothing-"

"Silence!" Duessel said. He was now addressing the entire hall, which had fallen dead silent. Even the struggling lords seemed quieter. "I am declaring martial law, until new leadership for each district and providence can be decided. Any acts of treachery will be dealt with swiftly and justly, and I swear on every God I know of that any attempts to undermine the work of the Empire will be stopped immediately."

There was scattered applause from his supporters, both army and Lords seemed to rally around his words. There was clearly support for his actions, particularly amongst those who had witnessed the former Emperors madness, and the War it had brought about. Nodding to Cormag, he turned his back, letting them drag Rotrai away.

* * *

Weeks later, Duessel found himself sitting nervously outside the rebuilt Great Hall. He was alone, dressed in the flowing garb of the Emperor of Grado. At his side, the axe Garm hung loosely from his belt. He had not used the weapon since the War of the Stones, but it was the rightful property of the Emperor of Grado, a former possession of its great hero.

He took a deep breath, and waited for Knoll to enter; telling him it was time to be crowned. No doubt the Lords, foreign dignitaries, and other important leaders of the world were inside, waiting for the endless speeches and oaths of loyalty to finish.

Somehow, Duessel suddenly understood just how boring the rest of his life would probably be. Not that Duessel enjoyed battle or war, but he would never again need to pick up his sword, or throw himself into battle. He would also never be permitted to travel the country without a bodyguard or entourage of retainers.

He groaned, just in time for Knoll to slip through the door like the shadows he controlled. "Are you ready?"

"More or less." Duessel said gruffly. "I don't suppose there's time to back out." Knoll looked at him blandly, eyes dull, face still gaunt with sickness.

"The Empire is in your hands now." Knoll spoke in a raspy voice. "I'm afraid that my time is coming to an end. I want to know, before I move on, that the Empire is safe."

"Knoll…"

"Ahh," Knoll said, cracking a rare smile. It looked strange on his face. "But let us not dwell too much on the future today. You become Emperor today, and may your reign be long and prosperous." With that, Knoll bowed and opened the doors of the Great Hall.

"Presenting General Duessel, Obsidian, and the future Emperor of Grado."

His voice was amplified by his magic, thundering throughout the room. Duessel stepped out, his robes trailing behind him and his steps echoing in the hallway. Then, the crowd broke into applause. Duessel stopped for a moment, looking around.

Standing along the crowd, Duessel saw many familiar faces amongst the crowd. The beautiful Princess Erika was standing, applauding delicately as her ever present guard Seth stood at her shoulder. Behind him was his young prodigy Franz, who kept stealing glances at Amelia who was standing next to him.

"_An_ _okay lad."_ Duessel thought in approval. After all, the girl was like his daughter. _"She'll_ _be fine."_

Prince Ephraim was also there, flanked by his loyal knights Kyle and Forde. All were clad in ornamental armor, and smiling in excitement. Except Kyle, who was holding onto Colm's arm, keeping him from stealing food from the nearby buffet while Neimi looked on in mild amusement.

On the other side of the room, Innes was standing with his usual reserve, surveying the crowd coolly. Oddly, the entire Frelian congregation was following his example. Vanessa, Syrene, Gilliam, and Moulder were all watching intently, though Tana seemed distracted by Cormag, standing at attention nearby.

Duessel continued his slow advance down the hall, approaching the throne erected at the end. As he passed, he saw that just about everyone had come to see his coronation. Gerik and his mercenaries were standing in a circle. They bowed respectfully as he passed.

Lute and Artur were talking to Garcia and Ross as they applauded, laughing. It seemed so odd to see them all without the grim fear they'd all been used to during the war. Ewan had obviously been caught doing something by his master, as Saleh had him by the tunic while Myrrh watched silently, her wings hidden by a billowing cloak.

L'Arachel stood beside her uncle, the Divine Emperor Mansel , and her usual group of followers; Dolza the wild berserker and her forced companion Rennac. The pair seemed to be arguing about something, so nothing new there.

As he finally came to the raised platform on which the throne sat, he saw Natasha standing next to Joshua, who was obviously looking at her in interest even as she held the crown of the Empire in her hand. The applause fell, as Duessel knelt on one knee and Natasha approached.

"General Duessel." She said, raising the crown above his head as he knelt on a knee. "Do you swear to defend the Empire and all its providence?"

"I do." Duessel answered solemnly.

"And do you swear to devote your life to the Empire and its survival?"

"I do."

"And do you swear to uphold and restore honor and glory of the Empire?"

Duessel paused. The part about 'restoring the honor of the Empire' was new.

"I do."

Duessel felt his head grow heavier as Natasha placed the crown on his head.

"Then by the power of the Empire, and the grace of the light, rise, Emperor Duessel and take the throne."

Duessel rose, and the applause rose again as he stepped forward. The roars of approval redoubled, and Duessel sat, now Emperor of Grado.

* * *

The after coronation party was enormous. Thousands of people from all over Grado were jammed into the castle. The Great Hall in particular was full of people who Duessel knew personally. In the corner, Garcia, Dolza, and Gerik seemed to have collapsed in a corner, each seeing a classical ballad in their drunken stupor. In the center of the floor, the many partygoers were dancing, each paired up.

Amelia was dancing nervously with Franz, like a couple of young children, while Forde watched his brother with a huge grin. As they came closer to him, Forde let his leg slide out, tripping his younger brother and sending him into a heap on the floor. In spite of himself, Duessel couldn't help but smile at them.

"She's grown up a lot." A voice said besides him. He turned, and was surprised to see Melina, Amelia's mother, standing beside him.

"Indeed, they have all grown up so fast. The war forced many of them to."

"But they are better for it." Melina finished, nodding at him. "I should thank you again for reuniting me with my daughter."

"Not at all." Duessel said, taken aback. "The girl is like a daughter to me. I-" Realizing what he'd just said, Duessel felt his cheeks redden and waved his hands. "That's not what I meant…"

"I know." The lady said, smiling up at him. "Still, I don't suppose you would care to dance?" Duessel, Emperor of Grado, commander of the greatest army on the continent, and a fierce warrior in his own right, stared, mouth agape in shock.

Melina was hardly hideous. In fact, despite being close to his own age, she seemed to have a bounce and youth to her step, similar to Amelia. On top of this was wizened experience and years of hardship that had caused her straw blond hair to be streaked with grey. She had a handsome face, even given the weathering from years of work.

"I would be honored." He said, taking her hand and stepping onto the dance floor. "I'm afraid I haven't danced in many years though, except with the enemy." She laughed, her voice like crystal bells.

"Don't worry Gener-Sorry, your Highness."

"Duessel will be fine." He assured her, as they began to dance. "No need for honorifics amongst old friends."

* * *

After dancing for several hours, Melina took her leave, bowing to the general before leaving with a crowd of other partygoers. There were still several people around, dancing and drinking, but the main events had wound down.

Duessel gingerly stepped over a passed out Ross and Ewan, who had decided that the best way to decide who was more of a man was to see who could drink the most. Of course, this lead to Ewan trying to do magic while intoxicated, and Saleh having to put out a fire that had charred the Great Table. Still, everyone had laughed and had fun.

Still there was Knoll, conversing with Colm, Neimi, Erika, Ephraim, and Seth. They seemed to be relaxed, lounging in chairs, each with a glass in their hands.

"Evening my friends." Duessel said, approaching the group. "How did you enjoy the festivities?"

"Very much so!" Neimi said, turning in her seat. "I've never been to such a large party."

"And the food was amazing…" Colm declared in a dazed voice, picking his teeth with a toothpick. "I've got so much shrimp in my pockets and-"

"Colm!" Neimi shouted, grabbing his arm.

"Relax!" He yelped, warding her off. "I'm just kidding." He turned slightly, so his cloak covered himself better. "Seriously though, I need to thank you for the job. I needed the money."

"No problem." Duessel said, "I hear your planning to build a-" He stopped as Colm's heel kicked back into his shin.

"Build what?" Neimi asked. Colm threw him a dirty look.

"A-A ship!" Colm declared, thinking quickly. "I'm building a ship! Figure since you all won't leave me alone and let me pickpocket in peace, I'd better go find other continents to steal from."

"Oh," Neimi said, her face falling. "I-I guess that's all 'sniff' all right."

Colm groaned, slapping his face, and wrapping an arm around Neimi's shoulders. "Don't worry. I won't leave yet. Besides, if spying is as easy as it was this time, I might make it a new profession. All the guy did all day was lounge around in his-"

"Colm!" Knoll growled sharply. "Perhaps you and Neimi should go see Grado Keep's nightlife. I'm sure the festival has continued there." Colm, obviously taking the meaning from Knoll's voice, nodded.

"Right you are! Come on Neimi. Places to see, people to steal from." With that, he waved good bye, and ran off, followed closely by a sputtering Neimi.

"What did he mean by spying on Rotrai was boring?" Duessel asked, looking at Knoll suspiciously.

"Nothing." Knoll rasped pointedly. "He meant nothing by it."

Duessel turned to Erika, Ephraim and Seth. "Would you three mind leaving me alone with my advisor. We need to talk." They complied, graciously excusing themselves and not asking questions. Once they were out of earshot, Duessel continued.

"Why would Colm have been bored if Rotrai was such a hot bed of corruption?" Duessel questioned demandingly. Knoll stood his ground, staring up at the Emperor with his pallid face. They stayed like this for several minutes, neither moving an inch.

"Because there was very little evidence." Knoll confessed finally. He plopped down in a chair, hanging his head. Duessel stepped back as though he'd been punched. For a moment, he had to stop himself from picking his old friend up and throwing him across the room.

"You lied to me." He murmured, his voice growing in horror. "You made me take a throne I did not deserve and condemn an innocent man as a traitor." He felt his knees begin to buckle and pulled a chair up to sit on. Numbly, he looked at Knoll. "He's sentenced for execution…"

"As he should be." Knoll declared quietly. "He may not have been a traitor, at least, not in the sense you thought, but his own ambition could have destroyed this country as easily as any earthquake."

"He's going to die." Duessel whispered numbly. He looked up at Knoll. "You tricked everyone. Natasha, Amelia, Cormag…Everyone."

"I did what I did for Grado." Knoll shot back. "I am not like Natasha. I practice dark magic, magic based on knowledge and logic. As much as I hate to say it, this was the only logical course of action-"

"But it wasn't the right one." Duessel growled, his voice lying. "You've made Natasha, and Cormag, and everyone involved in this government a traitor to the Empire. Rotrai has more honor then us now."

"And do you think Rotrai will drag this country from its destruction?" Knoll shook his head. "No Duessel, now that an Emperor has been restored to the throne, I leave Grado's glory to you. Peace and knowledge go with you."

With a flurry of cloak movement, Knoll stood up and walked away. Duessel stood to follow and…and then what? Arrest him? Throw him in prison? Have him executed?

"As the leader of this conspiracy, only I should be punished." Knoll said, turning suddenly. There was steely determination in his eyes. "My lord, banish me, and justice will have been served. Send me away." Knoll fell on one knee in front of Duessel. "I beg you!"

Duessel looked down at his old friend. There was no begging in his voice, only the calm knowledge that, to legitimize his goverment, Knoll needed to be sacrificed. Knoll was sick. He was frail. He, like Duessel, was a traitor.

"I will keep the throne." Duessel forced out. He could practically feel his soul crisp and blacken. "And never speak of this again. But I will not kill Rotrai. He will be imprisoned. And you," Duessel declared, drawing himself up to his full height, "Will be banished, so justice may be served. An eye for an eye." He added, partially to reassure himself.

"Very well my lord." Knoll whispered, a sense of finality in his voice. "Thank you." Knoll made a gesture with his hand, and a dark pillar of shadow crawled up from the floor, engulfing him. "Take care, old friend." There was a flash of light, and Knoll was gone.

**_Thanks for reading! Please review (I've got to admit, the reason I re-picked this story up is because someone new put it on thier story alert. Your reviews really do make a difference :)_**


	3. Chapter 3 23 Years Later

**_So, i guess it's been a while huh. Yeah, i've been busy with college apps, but now I'd like this story done. _**

**_By the way, just for the record, this story is a part of a series I am writing. The first part was about Neimi and Colm, and this is the second part. I will release more, and message the titles to the people who want to read them._**

**_Please Read and Review!_**

23 years later

Duessel stood on the balcony of the Imperial Palace, looking over the city below. Grado Keep was going to bed, and the lights that lingered across the city were slowly dying out. There was something strangely poetic about the idea. The entire city seemed like a living being, gradually drifting away.

He felt a hand resting on his shoulder, gently assuring him he was not alone on the balcony. He turned and pulled Melina, his wife, forward and wrapped an arm around her waist. For a few moments, they stood, staring up into the blank night sky.

After Duessel had reunited Amelia and her mother, Duessel had begun to see her a lot more. At military functions, during old reunions, and just on a regular basis when he visited the young girl. They talked, danced, and laughed. Duessel enjoyed her company. She was a brief respite from years of mind numbing administrative work as Emperor.

Duessel had known her for a long time, having rescued her from the bandits who had kidnapped her long before the War of the Stones had even started. Stricken with amnesia, Duessel had taken her under his wing. Back then though, he'd just been the kind general who had rescued her and sheltered her till her memory began to return. Now though, he was the kind old general who had also protected her daughter during the war, and later reunited them.

Soon after Duessel became Emperor, he had courted her, and asked her to marry him. Melina had been delighted, and there was a massive celebration to celebrate the wedding. Royalty from across Magvel had come to pay tribute to the two; many of them old friends from the war. Amelia was elated to have her old mentor from the war as a father, and kept in touch with him even after she transferred to Renais to live with her own husband, Franz.

She'd been even more elated when, a year later, Melina had given birth to her step brother, Aetius. The young boy, being Duessel's son, grew up within the Imperial Palace, personally groomed by Duessel to be the next in line for the throne. Swordsmanship, leadership…the boy excelled at everything.

Now a young man, he was the pride of Grado. Commanding the finest battalion, an elite unit known as the Guards of the Mark, he had protected Grado's borders from thieves and bandits since his he'd turned eighteen and had received the title Second Marshall of the Mark. He'd grown into a strong young man, and had the proudest father in the world.

"Coming to bed?" Melina whispered, pulling on him slightly. Duessel resisted, but not in a cold manner.

"Just a moment, my dear." He murmured, still staring out at the city. "I just want to enjoy the night air a little longer."

She nodded and left him to his thoughts, gently shutting the door behind her. Duessel sighed and let out a small groan. His aches were back again. Somehow, being a general with a reputation for skill and ferocity unseen in any life time had not exempted him from the ravages of old age. He could feel it in his bones; he was getting old.

"_Still_," He thought cheering up. "_Grado has recovered and the world is at peace. I have a son, a step daughter, and a lovely wife. I am happy."_

With that, Duessel turned, and went to bed.

* * *

Rotrai lay at ease on his bed, staring at the dull grey stone above him until a knock at the door to his room roused him.

"_Another day, another meal." _He thought glumly, moving to open the heavy oaken door to his room.

"Not room though." He thought opening the door and accepting a small dinner of roasted fowl and vegetables. "_Cell_."

No matter what his keepers said, that was what his room atop this high tower was; a prison cell. Not that he lived without comfort. The Empire had ensured that his accommodations were paid for, and he had a fine room…yet could never leave it. There was constant armed guard outside and his only friend was his young friend Ferenhel.

Ferenhel was a scholar who lived in Serafew, where his prison was located. His only contact outside of the guards, Ferenhel was an intelligent man, one who delighted in teaching, even while visiting a friend in a cell. Rotrai was by no means uneducated. He had learned under some of the finest wise men of Grado. After all, he'd been related to the Emperor, even if only through marriage, and it gave one certain privileges. He felt sure it was only by those privileges that he was still alive.

However, Ferenhel was perhaps a genius. Every day the wiry young man entered, after being searched by guards, and began discussing with Rotrai everything from philosophy to geography. He had a deep mind, and Rotrai needed the company. Plus, he felt he learned more talking with Ferenhel then he'd learned in his many days of education. The young man seemed to know about everything.

Without a doubt though, his favorite subject was history. The scholar was an unlimited tome of Magvel's history. The many wars, the alliances against the monsters, against other nations, the many brief nations that rose into being for a brief and shining time, only to be snuffed out soon after. Fernehel discussed and explained these histories to him, many of them unheard by Ferenhel before his imprisonment.

One day in particular, he spoke of the Fallen Chronicles.

"According to the ancient writings," Ferenhel had explained, "Our continent Magvel is not the only populated continent. Long ago, the many continents were connected, united under a great banner."

"What banner?" Rotrai had asked eagerly, leaning forward.

Ferenhel raised his hands, as if warding off the question. "I cannot claim to know all the answers…Though I certainly know most. However, this higher power was not invulnerable, and during a great calamity, a massive group of traitors, who had been falsely accused, fled on boat after destroying records of a certain island called Magvel."

Ferenhel leaned back, waiting for Rotrai's response. And Rotrai…didn't know what to say. The story was startlingly similar to his own. Nobody, not even the guards, were supposed to know about his situation. Could it have simply been a coincidence?

"After fleeing," Ferenhel had continued, "The traitors sailed to Magvel, and began creating the world we have today. The grand empire they'd been a part of was unable to deal with the problem, as they themselves were being undone by disaster. And so, Magvel was born."

Ferenhel had cocked his head at the end of his story, looking at Rotrai with steely grey eyes that seemed to be jewels of winter itself. "_Could this story really be true_?" Rotrai had thought fleetingly.

"Strange." Ferenhel had murmured as if distracted. "Those traitors were the saviors of that entire culture."

With that, Ferenhel had left, promising to be back the next day. And he had returned. That day and every other day for the past years. It was not long before the two of them were close friends and the only thing that Rotrai looked forward to was his companionship.

* * *

Then, one day, Ferenhel entered breathless and sweaty, clutching his side. He looked as though he had run the whole way there. Rotrai leapt to his feet, and helped his exhausted friend to his bed.

"What happened?" He asked, worry laced in his voice.

"An ambush my friend." Ferenhel removed his hand from his side, revealing a long gash that had bit deep into his ribs. Rotrai took a step back, horrified.

"Who-"

"The same people who seek to assassinate you." Ferenhel 's other hand fell beneath his robes, revealing a massive tome. "You must flee with me. Before they arrive."

Rotrai faltered. He did not find it unusual that he would be assassinated. Truth be told, he had been surprised that the Empire had allowed him to survive this long. But flee? Flee where? When he voiced his objections, Ferenhel merely smiled.

"Do you think I have been idle these past months?" Ferenhel asked slyly. "Simply talking with you. No, I have been very, very busy."

"What do you mean?" When his friend fell silent, Rotrai snapped, "Speak man!"

"Many in western Grado would side with you, if you had the power to back up a claim to the throne." He grinned now. "Duessel is a usurper to the throne after all. He is hardly of royal blood, while you have such rare blood running through your veins." Ferenhel opened the tome, preparing a spell. "I am sending you to Serafew. I have hired an army of mercenaries from Jehanna to assist you in gaining power."

Rotrai gave pause now. This was it. His chance for freedom. Reaching out, he took the hand of Ferenhel, and grabbed his chance.

* * *

Aetius walked as quietly as he could, leading his powerful war horse through the dense woods. Behind him, a column of soldiers and cavaliers followed, their ranks tightly dressed and compact. The woods, though dense, were devoid of brush, which made it an ideal way to move horse discreetly and quickly.

From off in the distance, Aetius could hear the distant sounds of battle. Men fighting. Men dying. The sounds came closer as the column moved closer to the trade route they were supposed to be protecting.

"The enemy milord?" Thorismund queried, hurrying besides him. Like Aetius, he was dressed in the scarlet armor of cavalier, and carried a long spear and shield. Unlike Aetius, he did not possess the decorations and decoration that came with being the Emperor's son. Instead, he wore the simple uniform of a lieutenant; leather padding and metal chainmail.

"I believe so." Aetius murmured stoically. It wouldn't do to show excitement or relish at the coming slaughter. That would only encourage the men to break rank and fall into disorder. "If Commander Stilicho's knights are ready, perhaps we can end these bandit's raids."

Aetius nodded, and Thorismund made a silent hand gesture to the column. Quietly, the cavaliers mounted their horses while the soldiers formed ranks behind them. Their plan had been that, while Commander Stilicho and his men offered themselves up as bait, Aetius and the Guards of the Mark would circle around and crush them, ensuring that the bandits harassing the northern trade routes would finally be crushed.

"Mount up Thor." Aetius smiled as Thor scowled at the use of his old nickname. Aetius grabbed the helmet hanging from his horse, hefting it in his hand. It was magnificent, a gift from his soldiers after his victory at the Harren plains in the north. It was scarlet red, but tinged with silver around the edges, and shaped so it protected his cheekbones and nose. The top was decorated with a long plume of horse hair that fell back behind him.

"Men are ready milord." Thor informed, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "We await your command."

Aetius said nothing. He merely drew his long sword and raised it above his head. As Aetius's horse began a slow trot, the lines of men and horse followed, increasing speed as he did. Before long, they were in a full gallop towards the sound of battle, trees flying by like blurs. The infantry fell behind them, a mass of running men, carried by their adrenaline and momentum. The horses practically flew, rising over the crest of a hill. Below them, where the trees ended and the paved road began, a small circle of red clad knights and soldiers were holding back a sea of horrid, mangy bandits.

The bandits wielded their weapons as though they were mere clubs. Their strategy consisted of massing together and attacking the tight phalanx of knights in waves. The knights were all tight efficiency. No effort was wasted with wild swings or desperate blocks from their shields. Every thrust of theirs brought a spurt of blood and a howl from a bandit.

In the center of it all was Stilicho. His old battered armor was still impressive, and he wielded his sword and axe together, leaving his spear across his back for better enemies. Every attack of the enemy was countered with bone crushing thrusts and slashes.

But the knights were close to being overwhelmed. The horde before them was relentless and taken with blood fever. Aetius watched as one knight fell with a heavy battle axe splitting his helmet open, mixing brains, blood and cold steel.

"URAAA!" Aetius roared, kicking his horse into a charge. The men echoed his roar, throwing their mounts into the rear of the enemy horde.

"URAAAA!"

The barbarians, surprised, fell into even more disorder. The knights took advantage of this to push forward, while the cavaliers encircled the enemy, their well trained squadrons splitting to make way for the soldiers.

The soldiers fell on them quickly. The first line thrust their shields into the backs of the bandits. Before they could retaliate, they knelt, letting the second line strike with their spears. While on their knees, they draw their short swords, jabbing up towards the now bewildered enemy. A volley of spears and javelins crashed into the rear of the bandit's line, felling even more.

The infantry pushed forward, hacking and thrusting with their short small hilt swords. Aetius wheeled his horse around and through the enemy, slashing with his sword.

Some people would say that fighting from horseback is exceedingly simple. They believe it is simply downward slashes, but that is a common misconception. To fight from horseback, one had to be exceptionally skilled at swordplay and horsemanship. Luckily, Aetius was both.

He steered his horse through the crowd with his legs, slashing on both sides and occasionally lashing out with a boot to an enemy's face. When one barbaric man with wild eyes desperately tried to climb up the side of his horse, Aetius caught his axe and pulled him up and into his waiting sword.

Aetius pushed the man away and turned. Seeing one of his men being overwhelmed, he hurled the axe he had just acquired, catching the offending bandit in the spine. He fell, twitching violently.

A cry from his right caught his attention. Thor, in a moment of lapsed attention, had been struck in the thigh by a hammer. It did not kill him, but Aetius watched as his thigh bone collapses and crumpled. He urged his horse forward, grabbing a lance rising from the ground as he did. The bandit raised his hammer again, but was interrupted as Aetius thrust the lance through his chest, killing him instantly.

He rode forward, catching his old friend before he fell from his horse. "Damn." He cursed, pushing him away and pulling himself back into his saddle with a wince. "I'm fine milord."

"You're bone is shattered." Aetius warned him, slashing backwards as another bandit ran forward. The man fell, his face gashed.

"Oh, I didn't realize." Thor growled sarcastically. He surveyed the battlefield, and nodded towards Aetius. "Looks like the battle is finished."

Aetius looked about. Thor was right. Any remaining bandits had surrendered, and were being rounded up by the cavaliers, herded like cattle by circling horsemen. They threw down their weapons, hands in the air. His foot soldiers and the formerly besieged knights were also patrolling, finding wounded men and hurrying their passage.

Aetius felt his pride swell as he looked over his men.

"Grado Laureola!" He roared, raising his sword. His men followed suit.

"GRADO LAUREOLA!"

He let his sword arm fall, loosely gripping his sword in his hand. The ancient victory cry of Grado had been abandoned by the Imperial armies during the previous war. Written in the ancient tongue, it translated to "Grado victory". The shame of the last war seemed to have stained it, but Aetius liked to think he could erase it with his victories.

"Very theatrical." Thor murmured, gazing across the road to where the men were reforming. "What do we do about the prisoners?"

"Have them fall into line with the column." Aetius ordered, setting his horse into a walk towards his soldiers. "We will take them to the nearest town for trial."

"They'll just be executed." Thor protested.

"Absolutely, and their public hanging will discourage others from going into their profession." Aetius explained. "The Empire cannot tolerate these bandits, but the most effective way to show people that something is wrong is to kill them for it."

"How very philosophical." Thor said dryly. "You'll make a great Emperor some day."

Aetius scowled but said nothing. If there was one person's opinion that he trusted, it was Thorismund's. The two of them had joined the military together, fought side by side during dozens of battles, and had saved each other from death more times than Aetius cared to count. Though Aetius's station in life had allowed him to progress further in the ranks than Thor, it was certainly Thor's training methods that had turned the Guards of the Mark into the elite fighting unit of the Grado Army.

The Guards of the Mark were a relatively small unit. About fifty cavaliers and a hundred foot soldiers. The unit was essentially the only unit in the Empire that was "looking for trouble" as the saying went. The northern border of the Empire was largely wilderness, making it a perfect place for bandits and other raiders to hide from authorities.

Unfortunately, much of the trade between Renais and Grado passed through there, making it essential for the security of both nations. Therefore, the northern border, or the Mark, was heavily patrolled by the Imperial Army. However, only the Guards of the Mark actively scoured the land for bandits, acting more like detectives or a police force in how they pursued and hunted down bandit hideouts.

There were also the occasional lingering monsters. Many had fled or hidden themselves after the War of the Stones, and Aetius doubted whether they'd ever find them all. However, all this real combat and danger had quickly made the Guards into the finest unit in the Grado Military.

They also acted as a liaison unit to Renais, often crossing borders and sharing information. This was fine with Aetius, as his stepsister, Amelia, was a knight of Renais. Their friendship had helped create a certain camaraderie between the Imperial and Renais forces. After all, they both were united in hunting down barbarians and defending their trade routes.

Aetius, now on foot, led his horse towards the small camp his men had quickly set up to help deal with the wounded and the dead. As Thor struggled down from his saddle, Aetius helped him limp towards a small table where the cavaliers were working on their injured. There were no healers, as the Guards were a unit of fast moving infantry and cavalry, and staff wielders would only have slowed them down. Instead, the unit stayed well stocked with vulnerary, and had certain riders whose job it was to act as medics and administer aide.

"You'll be just fine." One of these men said, already wrapping Thor's leg and splinting it straight. "Just be glad the bone didn't break the skin?"

"Yeah, I'm so thankful-"

He stopped as the doctor pushed on his leg, and the bones in his thigh snapped back into place. Then he screamed.

Aetius decided to leave Thor, deciding he needed to get his men mounted and ready to bring in the prisoners. As he approached the stockade, he was met by Commander Stilicho.

"Your reputation precedes you your majesty." The commander said, bowing.

"As does yours commander." Aetius returned the bow with a slight nod of the head, before they continued towards the stockade.

Stilicho was a career soldier, one who had fought in the War of the Stones for Grado. After the war, he had stayed on until he had become commander of the garrison at Naufwalt, a tiny trade village in northern Grado.

"We have thirty nine prisoners here sir. All of them bandits." He tilted his head and hesitated before continuing. "I must say, the strategy was a fine idea, but how did you know they would attack us?"

"I did not commander, but I believed that, with you only possessing about ten knights, it would be too much temptation for any enemy to pass up."

"Naturally." Stilicho tilted his head in a nod, but Aetius could practically feel the annoyance rolling off him in great waves. "Can't say I like it though."

"Next time, I will be the decoy." Aetius promised with a good natured laugh.

**_Thanks for reading. Please review. it will encourage me to finish the next one even faster._**


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